


cause you're not by my side

by manbunjon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 09:34:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18070868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manbunjon/pseuds/manbunjon
Summary: Jon cleared his throat and continued. "Or maybe when you're in bed all alone, late at night..." he trailed off. "Do you think of me then?"Sansa professed. "You're all I think about, Jon. Only you, always you."





	cause you're not by my side

"Do you think about me?" 

Sansa frowned, clasping the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she set aside the mound of throw pillows that covered her bed. "I always think about you, Jon." she replied, confused. 

Jon chuckled softly from the other end of the phone. She couldn't hear the all too familiar sound of his coworkers rowdily yelling at her through so she figured Jon must have slipped into the privacy of his office to phone her before bed. 

"That's quite flattering." he admitted. "But I was actually thinking of...something else."

"Oh?" Sansa asked, smoothing out Ghost's bed and kicking off her slippers. She shivered, though she doubted it had anything to do with the winter storm that raged outside. 

"Do you think about me other times?" Jon continued. 

Sansa smirked silently, smug that she had correctly guessed his intentions. "Other times?" she repeated, playing the fool. She slipped into the bed and beneath the covers, letting out a soft hum as she stretched her arms over her head. 

"When you're in the bath, perhaps." he said. She could hear the crackle of static on the other end of the line, but it did nothing to mask the heady sound of lust in his voice. "After a long day, when you've gotten your bath salts out, and lit all those candles you insist on keeping, despite it being a fire hazard—" he began, though he stopped when she _tsk_ ed her tongue impatiently and brought him back to reality. 

Jon cleared his throat and continued. "Or maybe when you're in bed all alone, late at night..." he trailed off. "Do you think of me then?"

Sansa professed. "You're all I think about, Jon. Only you, _always_ you." 

Jon let out a ragged breath. She wondered if he were touching himself and, if so, decided she could help things along, even if she weren't truly there. 

Sansa switched the phone to speaker and switched apps, searching through her photos for the folder that had been hidden expertly from any wandering eyes. She selected one of the photos she had taken for an occasion quite like this and clicked send, waiting for a reaction from Jon. 

"Fuck." he breathed. It made her cheeks flush and her lips quirk all at the same time. "You're a dream. I wish I were there to tear it off you."

The words made her blush even darker. "Where are you?" he asked suddenly. 

"In bed." she replied, looking at the clock on their nightstand. "It's late."

"Of course." Jon responded, sounding as though he were speaking through gritted teeth. "Are you touching yourself?" 

"Yes." Sansa admitted. Jon's breath hitched in such a way as to prove that he was too. 

Sansa let her free hand slide between her legs as she buried herself deeper beneath the covers, glad that the heater was running— though she doubted she would remain cold for much longer. 

"What are you thinking about?" Jon asked, as though he did not already know. 

"You." she responded, moaning softly as her fingers breeched the lacey band of her knickers, wishing Jon were there to pull them off for her. "Kissing me. Touching me. Your fingers inside of me. The way you always know to— oh!" Sansa breathed, her body jumping at the touch of her cold fingers to her core. 

In truth it had not been more than a day since she had last been with Jon, but with the double shifts he had pulled that day at the firehouse, a year might as well have passed since she had last been touched. 

Jon was breathing hard on the other end of the phone, the sound making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. It was not the first time they had phone sex, and she was sure that it would not be their last, for each conversation brought such satisfactory results. 

"I like your hands." she blurted, feeling embarrassed at the outburst. 

Jon chuckled again. "My hands?" he asked, the deep timbre of his voice making heat coil in her belly. "What about my hands, love?"

"They're big." she said. "And rough. I like the way they feel when you touch me. When you...when you put my thighs over your shoulders and go down on me." 

"Gods Sansa." Jon groaned, the voice on the other end of the phone light as a sigh now. 

"The way you always hold me." she continued, her fingers through her slick folds now, delving deeper and deeper, circling over the nub that made her moan loudly into the phone. "You always hold me so tight. I feel so safe. I feel like you'll always be there." 

"I will be." Jon promised. 

Sansa's breath hitched, her eyes pinching closed as she tried to picture the scene if Jon were there now. "And your mouth..."

Jon moaned again. "What about it, love?"

"The way you go down on me. Your tongue always feels so good...Oh Gods, Jon. I can practically _feel_ you."

He moaned long and low, almost as though he were in pain. But they both knew what he was feeling was very far from that. 

"I like when you pull my hair." Jon added, just as the stretch of silence between them threatened to pitch them both into awkwardness. "When I'm going down on you. It's like you're silently telling me what to do. It hurts a bit but I like it. I like when you—" his words were cut off by a lengthy moan. Sansa could feel it all the way down to her toes. 

"I like when you're on top of me." Jon continued, his breath coming very fast now. Sansa moaned at the thought, her fingers gently nudging apart her folds. "I want you to do that thing with your back when I fuck you..."

"Oh, Jon!" she breathed, hips rolling up to meet her fingers as they worked. She had slid a finger inside of herself, feeling the way her walls pulsed and tightened around the roaming digit. "I'm gonna....I won't..."

"Tell me what you're doing." he breathed. 

"Thinking about your cock." Sansa said, all embarassment gone from her now. She only had one singular goal in mind, and she could feel it building and building in her belly. "Inside of me." Her thighs had begun to tremble as she held them so far apart. 

"It would feel so good, Jon." she said. "You could be fucking me right now."

"Trust me, I'm as mad as you are." he said. His voice was hoarse and rough, the exertion of their activity leaving them both breathless and panting. 

"I can't stop thinking about your mouth." she said. She choked out a moan at the intrusion of a second digit, imaging it were Jon's cock instead of her fingers. 

"You taste so good, Sansa. You have the prettiest wet cunt I've ever seen." he groaned. She imagined him in his office, his hair tousled, his trousers unbuttoned, his mouth curved open as he moaned. "I wish I was eating you out right now. Gods I would go down on you for hours."

"Hours?" she repeated, wondering if they would soon be breaking their previous record. 

"Hours." Jon said firmly. She pictured him between her thighs, working her knickers down over her legs with only his teeth. 

He never looked sexier than when he went down on her; the muscles in his strong back working as he moved, the way he would shoulder apart her legs so he could get closer. Her fingers would fist in his dark curls as his tongue worked at her, licking up and down her slit as though he were a man starved and only she could sate him.

"I don't care if I couldn't feel my jaw for a week after." Jon moaned and Sansa could feel the vibration going through her as though he were truly kneeling before her. 

"I'm going to come, Jon." she breathed, the phone growing warm against her shoulder. 

"Come for me, love." he breathed. "I want to hear you. I want to hear you when you come for me, my sweet girl." 

Sansa did as she was told. 

She moaned his name, her body growing rigid before unraveling all at once as though she had turned to liquid beneath the coverlet. Her moans echoed around the empty room, coming through the receiver of the phone and to Jon's ears like music, and thought her moans began to come softer then, they did not cease completely until she had fallen back upon the bed in a breathless fury. Her cheeks burned with the exertion of the orgasm that was still sending shock waves of pleasure through her. 

"There's my sweet girl." Jon breathed. 

"Did you..." Sansa asked, wiping the back of her hand across her brow to blot away the sweat that had formed there.

"Not yet, sweet girl." he said, sounding as though he were smiling. "I was waiting."

"Waiting?" she repeated, propping herself up on her elbows, her brow knitting in confusion. "Waiting for what?"

Ghost barked suddenly, making her jump. The puppy sprang from the room as though he were being chased, drawn to the front door, where he had been attracted by the familiar clink of his owner's keys in their lock. 

Jon chuckled, his voice echoing both through the receiver and down the hallway. "Waiting until I got home." 


End file.
